


Little Secret

by Kitannax



Series: Overwatch Fics [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex, moderate age gap, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitannax/pseuds/Kitannax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Female) Reader and Soldier 76 finally get a moment to discuss your mutual feelings. However, neither of you are big talkers.</p><p>PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackwatchMimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackwatchMimi/gifts).



It's the second worst kept secret around the recalled team that you have an enormous, vaguely embarrassing crush on Jack Morrison, now known as Soldier 76. The WORST kept secret? That he feels the same way. It's infuriating, really. By which you mean, his firm refusal to actually talk to you about it. You have a feeling it's some honourable thing - something to do with the considerable age gap between you. Not that you care about that. 

Still, you had an opportunity to talk about it now; you were locked inside a store room with him, with no communication device and the rest of the building on lockdown. Just great. 

"Whoever decided to isolate communication when in lockdown, needs a good kick up the a-" he fumed. "And as for you, what were you playing at, taking so long in here?"

You shrug. "I was going to grab field supplies. I couldn't find the med kit, though." 

He sighs. "Med kits are kept in the clinic. You should know that, but instead I have to come look for you, and we end up in here until Winston can reroute the power. Fuck knows how long that will take." 

You wince. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure we would be prepared... I didn't know if it was a drill or not." 

He sighs again. "Sorry for snapping at you. Just. You worried me." He doesn't express himself often, let alone admit fear or worry. 

"Well, I'm fine." You say, pause for a moment, then continue, "don't you think we should talk, maybe?" 

You're glad he's not wearing his mask; it means you can actually see his face, and therefore his facial expressions. His eyes flicker with something briefly before he shakes his head. 

"What is there to say?" 

You bite your lip. "Jack..." You start, "how long are we really going to-"

"Until you get it through your head," he says tiredly, "that there are many more men - and women - out there, better suited to you. Younger. Smarter."

"I don't want someone younger," you comment, "and I know you don't want me to." 

"What I want, does not matter." He shakes his head, "you deserve better than some grumpy old soldier like me." 

You scowl, approach him, and yank on his jacket, pulling him down into a kiss. It's impulsive, yes. But it's the only feasible way to shut him up. To prove how you feel. 

You half expect him to push you away; to tell you no, that this is wrong and he's too old for you. God knows you've had those conversations before. It's fairly noble of him, but it hasn't pushed you away. If anything, it's made you want him more. Maybe it's only fuelled his own feelings, because he doesn't push you away. 

He lifts you into his arms, a hand reaching into your hair, pulling you closer. You certainly weren't expecting this sort of reaction; if this was all it had taken then you would have done this much sooner. 

"What happened to talking?" You ask, trying not to laugh. He almost growls at you, one hand squeezing a large portion of your ass. 

"Talk later," he grunts, already tugging insistently at your clothing as his mouth returns with a renewed hunger to yours. His tongue is insistent as he kisses you deeply; you're not surprised that he's a good kisser. He has quite a few years on you; of course he's had more experience. Saying that, whilst the kiss is insistent, it's not rough. There's passion behind it, and whilst blonde and silver stubble lightly scratches your face, his lips are surprisingly soft. 

He smells, inexplicably, of vanilla, and it takes you a moment to realise that the soap in the bathroom at this base is vanilla, one of Mei's favourites. It's always down to one of you to replace the bathroom items. You don't mind, but it's kind of funny to smell such a sweet scent on him. 

This particular store room happens to have a bunk in it. Whilst you were cursing it earlier for taking up so much room, especially whilst you were looking for things, you're extremely grateful for it now. Particularly when your back hits it gently. Between the firm mattress and the warmth of Jack on top of you, you barely have time to be self conscious. You always worried about being naked in front of him, worried he wouldn't like what he saw. 

Evidently he does, however, because he starts kissing down your body slowly, with the air of a man who knows exactly what he's doing, until his mouth reaches the precise place he wants it to be. You expect some sort of slow, teasing lick; it's a surprise when that doesn't come. 

Instead, his tongue traces circles across your folds, deliberately tasting your wetness. Clearly, he likes the way you taste, because his tongue fast becomes greedy, lapping and sucking every inch of sensitive flesh he can reach, his tongue dipping in and out of your soaked slit.

God, he's so good at this, clearly well practised in this particular sensual art. Callused hands gently grip your waist, holding you firmly in place, preventing too much wriggling. Every sigh and moan you make seems to only fuel his enthusiasm; whilst he clearly has experience, he makes love like a much younger man. 

"Jack, oh my god..." You gasp, your fingers winding into soft, white hair, your body tensing. Perhaps he knows how close to release you are; the almost teasing smirk on his scarred face as he pulls away from you certainly gives you that impression. 

"You know I don't go by that name anymore," it's only a faint rebuke, not a harsh statement, but still.

"What would you prefer I call you?" You ask; it's hard to keep your voice even when his lips are nuzzled rather pleasantly below your jaw. 

"I've always liked 'sir'... But I do like my old name in your voice." You can feel his smile against your skin, the faint scratch of his stubble. He shifts, just slightly, enough for you to feel his cock against your inner thigh. As lewd as the admission is, you've spent plenty of time picturing this particular part of him. You can feel the weight and length on your thigh, know for certain that yes, you absolutely will feel this in the morning. 

He kisses you; it's a rough, passionate kiss, his hands gentle as he guides himself inside you. Every nerve in your body is on fire from the moment just the thick head of his cock enters you. You've wanted this, wanted him, for so long. You wrap your legs around him, not caring about the pain, pulling him in deeper until he's fully sheathed inside you. He grunts softly into the tender skin of your throat as his thickness stretches you.

Your fingers find his soft hair again, petting and stroking gently as he nuzzles into you, his thrusts slow and shallow. You can't help but appreciate that; the way that, despite his obvious need for you, he's taking his time. Of course he is. 

One heavy, scarred hand moves to your hip, shifting your thigh a little higher around his waist. He grunts in approval at the new angle, lips leaving your throat to nip lightly at the sensitive skin of your breasts. You moan appreciatively, lift your hips to meet each thrust as his movements increase in tempo and roughness. He seems driven by each moan he elicits from you, his cock throbbing almost painfully as he fills you again and again. In this moment he doesn't care how much older he is, how unwise this might be. All that matters is how tight you are, how his name sounds in your voice, how plain goddamn alive you make him feel. 

You're so close to release already, your fingers knotting in his hair, your back arched. He grunts again, grinding his hips roughly into yours; the action sends you over the edge. Moaning, you tighten around him, finally reaching the sweet release you crave. His grunts become more frequent and lower, deeper, as he fucks you relentlessly. 

"Oh, fuck... Jack! Yes!" You gasp, your nails clawing wildly up his back as with a deep, growling moan, he fills you with his hot release, hips bucking wildly. 

"Fuck," he mumbles once he regains his breath, "rookie mistake." 

You giggle, "I take pills, Jack, don't worry."

"Still," he grunts, "younger man's error. And I should have asked." 

You kiss him, long and slow and deep, already settling into a haze of exhaustion. 

"What was that for?" He asks, shifting beside you, wrapping you in a strong embrace. You flash him a cheeky smile. 

"Because I can." 

A ghost of a smile flickers onto his face.  
"Get some sleep. We may as well; God knows how long we'll be in here." 

You smile back, nuzzle into his solid chest, and sigh contentedly. You might be locked in, but you're content to enjoy this little moment of perfection.


End file.
